Marsillus by this means gained a month’s respite. But, at last, the Sultana one day begged him to accompany her to the bottom of the grounds, where she had discovered some unknown description of flowers, which gave out an odour so sweet, it was almost impossible to tear yourself away from them when once you had gone near them. The King refused with such evident horror, that the surprised Hadrama only persisted the more, and he had to give way. As he approached nearer, his blood froze in his veins; his eyes were blinded with mist; his teeth chattered horribly. Walk slowly as he would, he _must_ at last reach the terrible spot where his son’s remains were concealed. [Illustration: 127] On arriving there, the Sultana said, “See how thick the turf is! Did you ever see anything like it?” To the terrified Marsillus it seemed as if human hair was growing and covering the ground on which he trod. “Is there anything more delicious than the scent of these flowers?” But Marsillus could only smell the foul odours of a grave. “See what flocks of birds perch in the branches! Hark! how sweetly they sing!” But Marsillus seemed but to hear a laugh that came from under the ground. He saw that the leaves of this strange tree were shaped like human tongues, and when the breeze shook them, low’ voices murmured--“Revered sovereign, avenge my death!” The King of Saragossa fell on his knees and to his prayers. The big tears ran down his white beard. “Sow sin, and you will reap remorse!” he exclaimed, with his eyes fixed on the earth. The next day he called together his nobles, and announced to them his intention of avenging the death of Murad! [Illustration: 128] CHAPTER V. THE TWO ALCALDES. MARSILLUS commenced his address in the following words:-- “May Allah enlighten you, and shed his glory on you, for I have assembled you to a council. Listen to this brief recital, and give me your opinion on it. “A lion, full of youth and strength, was gaping and yawning enough to put his jaws out of joint. He had done nothing for the day, but yet, wholly given up to idleness, he stretched himself on the warm sand, roasting first one side and then the other in the hot rays of the sun. An ant happened to pass close by him, painfully dragging a small fly. Seeing such great labour bestowed on so small an object, the lion burst out laughing. ‘It is not very becoming in you to make a jest of me,’ said the toiler, without ceasing from his task; ‘I am weak, but I make full use of the little strength Heaven has given me, while you, who might do anything, are giving way to slumber before you have earned it by fatigue. Leave off smiling, for you are in the wrong. I am stronger and braver than you. Remember, ‘a busy ant does more than a dozing lion.’” Mahomet, who was leaning on a cloud, and happened to hear them, greatly approved of the ant’s remarks. [Illustration: 129]